


Closer

by hellosterek



Series: HelloSterek's Summer One Shot Challenge [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: HelloSterek's Summer Oneshot Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosterek/pseuds/hellosterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt [a summary]: Stiles and Derek get trapped in an elementary school. Possibly with snacks. Possibly with glitter.<br/>Prompted by the wonderful <a href="http://writerdragonfly.tumblr.com/">Kyla</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of my [summer challenge](http://hellosterek.tumblr.com/post/87511241651/hellostereks-summer-one-shot-challenge-requests-are) over on Tumblr. I fell a bit behind, so I thought I'd try to get one out of the way. Enjoy!

Stiles and Derek are in the closet together.

How badly they wish that's a metaphor for their love for each other.

“Please remind me how we got ourselves into this situation,” Stiles mutters angrily, resting his head back against a few boxes uncomfortably.

Derek raises his eyebrows pointedly in the faint glow of Stiles’s phone and yeah, maybe Stiles should keep his mouth shut. It’s Stiles’s fault they’re in this situation in the first place. Not only was it his stupid idea to go investigate the new elementary school teacher in the middle of the night, but it was also his idea to hide away in the closet to avoid getting caught. It’s been hours and the teacher is still sitting at her desk in her classroom, going over papers and marking them.

Derek has been especially broody, unhappy with being stuck in such close quarters, and Stiles hasn’t been much better. What’s worse, Stiles is hungry. He realizes he hasn’t eaten since the early dinner he’d made for his dad before he left for work. It was a horrible judgement call not to eat before he left home, but he’d been in a hurry. They only had so much time before the thing that was stalking around Beacon Hills would kill again and they had to figure out who it was before it could happen.

Turns out, it’s incredibly difficult to do that from inside an elementary school closet.

Stiles shifts uncomfortably and sighs. “How long have we been in here?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You’re the one with the phone.”

“Oh. Right,” Stiles mutters, exiting out of flashlight mode to glance at the time. His eyes widen. “It’s been two hours! Is she really still out there?”

Derek growls low in his throat and glares at him. He’s been listening to any movement in the classroom on the other side of the door and all he can hear is the teacher’s quiet muttering and the scratch of her pen across paper. Does Stiles really think he wants to be stuck in here with him? “Yes, and if you don’t be quiet she’s going to know we’re in here.”

Stiles slumps back against the boxes again, twitching to get more comfortable. When he gets another glare from Derek, he groans. “When is she going to leave?”

“Stiles?” Derek questions.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Derek hisses, grabbing a hold of the boy’s forehead and slamming his head back against one of the boxes. Derek freezes when Stiles yelps and puts a hand over his mouth when there’s movement on the other side of the door. He swears under his breath and gets closer to Stiles, grabbing for the phone and shoving it under his thigh so they’re hidden in darkness. When Stiles tries to mumble against Derek’s hand, he growls, “Be quiet.”

There are footsteps on the other side of the door and Stiles’s eyes widen when he realizes they’re about to get caught. Both of them watch with bated breath as the shadows of the teacher’s feet show underneath the door. Their shoulders deflate when she moves away from the closet and Derek hears her return to work.

Derek relaxes and takes his hand off Stiles’s mouth, handing him his phone.

“That was your fault!” Stiles hisses.

Derek’s glare returns and he growls, “Stop talking!”

“What if she is the killer?” Stiles continues, clenching his fist around his phone in aggravation. “We could have been killed! You could have gotten us-”

“Stiles, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the hell up,” Derek threatens, clenching his own hands into fists. He doesn’t understand why that’s such a hard concept for Stiles. Derek has been trying to keep them safe by keeping Stiles quiet. How is any of this his fault?

“What? What will you do, Derek? Slam my head into a box full of school supplies?” Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Because that worked out so well the first time.”

Derek’s eyes wander to the boxes behind Stiles and lifts his eyebrows. He returns his attention to Stiles with a stoic expression. “I’m sure there’s duct tape somewhere in one of those boxes. I’m sure I could figure something out.”

Stiles’s eyes widen and he settles back against the boxes with a frown. He’s unnaturally quiet and it’s sort of odd.

Derek hates himself for realizing he doesn’t like it when the boy is silent. He actually likes to hear him talk.

Derek sighs and settles back against the totes of, what he assumes are, more school supplies. “Sorry.”

Stiles eyes him in slight confusion, but remains silent, fiddling with his phone with a shrug.

Getting to his feet, Derek shifts around quietly and shifts partially into his beta form, his eyes bleeding a vibrant blue as he searches through the top tote.

Stiles looks up at him with a frown. “What are you doing?”

Derek finds what he’s looking for and tosses it to Stiles. Stiles catches the juice box and package of animal crackers clumsily, staring at them in astonishment. He glances up at Derek curiously as he shifts back to human form.

Derek shrugs and sits back down with his own juice box and animal crackers, muttering quietly, “I used to have class in here. They always keep snacks in the closet for kids who don’t bring their own.”

Stiles smiles and rips open the animal crackers, shoving a handful into his mouth. “Thanks dude. ‘m starvin’”

Derek refrains from smiling and pokes a straw into his juice box, taking a generous sip. Normally he’d complain about the copious amount of sugar in the juice, but he thinks better of it this time. It’s really his only option and he doesn't have room to complain. It would only spur an argument with Stiles anyway and getting Stiles wound up is really the last thing he wants when they’re stuck in a closet with a could-be killer on the other side of the door.

It isn’t until Derek hears Stiles’s muffled laughter that he looks up from reading the ingredients on the back of the juice box. He raises an eyebrow when he realizes Stiles is laughing at him, which only makes Stiles laugh even harder. The boy covers his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stunt the laughter and shakes his head, waving a hand in front of him when Derek makes a move to hit him again.

When he finally gets control of himself, an occasional giggle bubbling through his lips, he explains, “It’s just weird. I never pictured you as the type of guy who drinks from a juice box.”

Derek scowls and rolls his eyes, opening his package of animal crackers and munching on one defiantly. “What else do you expect me to drink in here, Stiles?”

Stiles holds his hands up in surrender and laughs again. “Hey, I’m not judging you. I’m just saying it’s weird.” When all he gets in response is Derek’s accusing eyebrow, he sighs and waves a hand at Derek’s chest. “I mean, dude, you’re huge. You’re so scowly and broody all the time. It’s just weird to see all that,” Stiles moves his hand in a circle in front of Derek’s body before pointing toward the juice box and crackers in his hands. “Sucking and munching on all that.”

Derek stares at him blankly, stopping mid-chew. He blinks, glancing down at the food and drink in his hands. He doesn’t understand what Stiles is getting at. He isn’t  _scowly_  or  _broody_. He may have muscles, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy what everyone else does. He lifts his eyebrow higher on his forehead and averts his attention back to Stiles. “Why is it weird?”

Letting out a sigh of frustration, Stiles rolls his eyes, lolling his head back to rest on the boxes behind him. “You have an image. The sucking and the munching does not fit it.”

Derek blatantly ignores the double entendre and huffs. “I don’t have an image.”

“You totally do!” Stiles argues quietly, his voice breaking. “You lived in the middle of the woods for years, in an old abandoned house that could fall down at any minute! You lived among woodland creatures without any social interaction! You were some kickass alpha that everyone wanted to please or kill because they saw you as a threat! You wear a leather jacket and drive a camaro! You’re badass! You have an image!”

Derek snorts, shaking his head as he shoves another frosted cracker shaped like a giraffe into his mouth. He doesn’t agree with anything Stiles has said about him. He knows a lot of it is the truth, but that doesn’t mean he has an image. He isn’t  _badass_. “That’s an opinion, Stiles, not an image.”

Stiles squawks indignantly. “It is too an image!”

Derek rolls his eyes and flicked a cracker at the annoying teenager he’d somehow gotten stuck with. He still doesn’t understand why he’d even asked Derek to go with him to the school instead of Scott. Stiles probably would have much rather been stuck in a closet with his best friend and at least Scott could have found a way to shut Stiles up.

The cracker bounces off Stiles's arm and he purses his lips, staring at it as it tumbles to the floor. He shakes his head with a laugh, grabbing one of his own and lobbing it at Derek, who deflects it with a flick of his hand.

Stiles narrows his eyes in determination and lobs a couple more at Derek, who puts his arms up in front of his face to shield himself. Stiles laughs as Derek lets out an indignant noise and crawls forward in the small shower of animal crackers. Derek makes a grab for the packet of animal crackers and misses as an animal cracker hits him in the eye, accidentally grabbing Stiles’s wrist instead.

Derek hears a noise outside the door and tenses, but Stiles continues to squirm and mutter spastically. Derek moves a hand to Stiles’s mouth and whispers for him to shut up, glancing over his shoulder at the shadows beneath the door. There are two pairs of feet this time and Derek squirms, scooting closer to Stiles in the corner as the door is opened. He pulls at a jacket from the rack above them and drapes it over them just as light pours into the closet and two people step inside.

“A wise decision to hide it in the closet,” a man speaks approvingly as someone rifles through one of the totes.

Derek is hyper-aware of how close he is to Stiles, practically folding himself around him in an attempt to hide them both under the jacket. Stiles’s heartbeat is loud to his ears and he has to force himself to ignore it as he tries to listen to the conversation between the teacher and her visitor.

“The children know better than to get into the closet without permission,” the teacher answers sweetly. “Nobody gets in here but me.”

The man hums and the sound of two pairs of lips smacking together is loud in the quiet closet. Stiles begins to shift uncomfortably and Derek has to lay a firm hand on his chest to steady him.

“I knew I liked you for more than your pretty face,” the man flirts, making Stiles fake gag. Derek rolls his eyes and shifts around as quietly as he can manage, pausing when the two fall silent. He peeks around the jacket, eyes falling to the silver box in the man’s hands. Whatever it is, it isn’t good. There's some kind of druid symbol on the front, but not one Derek recognizes.

Stiles was right. She had to be the killer or at least an accomplice.

He quickly hides back behind the jacket when the two pull out of their embrace.

“Come back with me tonight?” the man suggests.

The woman hums. “Tempting, but I still have papers to grade. The little brats will be disappointed if I don’t get their tests back by tomorrow.”

The man snorts, his next words muffled. “They could wait one more day.”

The teacher sighs, her heels clicking against the floor. “No, they really can’t. I’ve already made them wait a week. If I make them wait anymore their parents will complain.”

The man sighs. “Fine, but at least try to make it before sunrise. I’d like to spend some time with you.”

Derek peeks out of the jacket when he hears them step out of the closet and close the door. He lets out a relieved breath and drops the jacket to the floor, turning back to Stiles, who’s staring up at him with wide eyes. Derek has seen that look before. It’s the look Stiles gets whenever he’s about to scream excitedly and flail. Derek narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

He can still hear the two on the other side of the door. If they make any noise, they’ll be caught. Trying to evade someone who  _could_  be a killer is a lot different than evading someone who actually  _is_  a killer. They don’t want to draw any attention to themselves.

When Stiles starts flailing his arms, Derek is quick to shut him up in the only way he can think of - the only option he has left since a hand over his mouth clearly isn’t working.

He kisses him.

At first, their lips are just touching, stiff and unmoving, but Stiles suddenly stops flailing. When Derek finally starts to move his lips against Stiles’s, Stiles lowers his arms slowly, easing into the kiss. Derek moves his hands to rest on Stiles’s shoulders and scoots closer, placing a knee on the other side of him to bracket his thighs with his own. Stiles’s hands lay limply for a moment until Derek brushes his tongue along Stiles’s lower lip. Stiles moves his hands to Derek’s waist and lets out a short laugh.

Derek pulls away sharply, his eyebrows dipping together in confusion.

Stiles rests his head back on the boxes and shakes his head. “Oh man, no, sorry. I just...never pictured you as the one being on top.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up and Stiles is quick to explain himself, stumbling over his words.

“No, oh god, I mean because... of the whole  _image_  thing,” Stiles says hastily, trying to cover up for the fact that he had, indeed, thought about doing this with Derek. Many times.

Pursing his lips, Derek sighs heavily through his nose and rolls his eyes. He lets his hands slide down from Stiles’s shoulders to his stomach, the pads of his fingers fiddling with the bottom of Stiles’s shirt. He leans forward and runs his teeth along Stiles’s jaw until he reaches his ear. He slides his hands up the inside of Stiles’s shirt, resting them on his stomach and feeling the muscles twitch beneath his touch. “I don’t have an image.”

Stiles shivers and shrugs. “Yeah, sure, whatever. You don’t have an image. Can we get back to kissing? I kind of liked the kissing.”

Derek bites back a laugh and kisses his way back along Stiles’s jaw before reaching the boy’s lips. He pulls away slightly with a quirk of an eyebrow. “The teacher just left. We don't have to stay anymore.”

Stiles snorts unattractively and wraps his fingers tightly around the back of Derek’s head, pulling him back into the kiss. “Yeah, maybe later.”

Derek grunts and winces as Stiles leans back and knocks a box to the floor, the cover popping off and the contents exploding. Derek blinks his eyes open and they widen in astonishment at the sparkling, pink glitter that's covering Stiles's head, chest, and arms.

"Not a word," Stiles mutters, spluttering as some falls into his mouth.

Derek snickers and brushes some off Stiles's face. "You look pretty."

Stiles groans and tugs him back for another kiss. "Shut up."


End file.
